


You Left

by thinkinghardhardlythinking



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Eventual Smut, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:02:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27243148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thinkinghardhardlythinking/pseuds/thinkinghardhardlythinking
Summary: Things have been changing between Sam and the Reader, and hunter’s don’t get the apple pie life, right? Slow burn friends to lovers story
Relationships: Sam Winchester & You, Sam Winchester/Reader, Sam Winchester/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 53





	You Left

The knock at the door made you jump. Wandering down the hallway, you could tell who it was through the pane of frosted glass in the door. The silhouette was unmistakeable. Tall and broad and man-shaped. 

Your hand hesitated on the handle but you knew you had to let him in.

You opened the door and sure enough, there in the porch light was Sam. He’d been looking away, seemingly boring through the wall of the house. His eyes stayed there for a moment, even after you opened the door and then he swallowed. You watched him slowly take a deep breath that puffed up and then deflated his broad chest, before he resolutely moved his gaze to look at you. You could see that he was finding it hard to look at you, his eyes seemed to want to dart upwards, perhaps to hold in the tears that were currently glazing them. His jaw was set. You could see the tight clench in it. You’d never seen him look like this before. He looked somewhere between anger and upset. He looked hurt.

Silence hung in the air. It felt dense and heavy.

“How did you know where I was?” you asked, weakly.

His eyes narrowed as he looked at you with an expression that said ‘Really, that’s what you have to say to me?’ but when he spoke, he actually said “You left the bunker, where else would you be?”

You remembered now mentioning that a friend was away, on vacation, but it had been in passing. You hadn’t stayed anywhere that wasn’t either the bunker or wherever the boys were, for years. Of course Sam would remember and of course he’d figure out where it was, you thought, you may as well have left a note.

Sam, angry, was something you hadn’t ever wanted to see. Especially like this. It was a million miles away from the Sam you knew. Soft, sweet, tender, funny.

“I told Dean –“ you started explaining but he cut you off.

“What? That you needed ‘space’?”

“Yes.” You said, a simple declaration that came out way more defiant that you had meant.

“From me?” He asked, and there it was, the hurt.

“No. God, no, Sam….” You trailed off as the words refused to form. You threw up your hands in resigned frustration, “….I don’t know. Maybe….but not ‘you’ you….just the situation….”

You hated this. You hated seeing him hurt like this. More than that, you hated being the reason for it.

His eyes were searching your face. He must have been driving for hours. You looked over his shoulder and saw the Impala parked outside the drive. It must have been bad if Dean had let him take his baby. He’d lose his mind if he saw how haphazardly Sam had parked her. 

“Look, just come in. I’ll try and explain, OK?”

He followed you in, all the way to the lounge. You motioned to the couch but he stayed standing as you walked past him to the other side of the room and leaned against the wall. You pulled your arms across you. You weren’t exactly sure what to say.

“Look….Sam….you must’ve noticed that things have started to get weird. Between us. I mean….you must’ve felt it too, right?”

You hadn’t meant to ask him that. You didn’t want to be seeking clarity or validation. There was a reason you’d never spoken about this before. There was a reason you’d left.

It only took one look from him for you to know with absolute certainty that he had definitely felt it too. Just one wounded look of insulted disbelief that you could even question it - whatever it was that had been growing, silently and unspoken about, between you.

“And I just….we talked about this ages ago…”

“What?” he said, looking confused, “When?”

“Ages ago.” You repeated. “We were talking, the three of us and you said hunters shouldn’t have partners. That it wasn’t compatible with the life. ‘It ends bad or it ends bloody’, you said. That people ended up getting hurt and so you should just be alone. Focused. I think it was after Donna and that Doug guy broke up?”

“What?” his face scrunched up in disbelief “This is because of a conversation I don’t even remember having from years ago?”

You nodded and shrugged. “Just because you don’t remember it doesn’t mean it’s not what you think. And it doesn’t make it less true.”

To be fair, that had been a long time ago and you hadn’t been talking about the two of you. That had been before. There had been a time when it all felt easy and relaxed. It had been nice, the three of you. It had felt warm and effortless.

Before things had started to get weird.

You weren’t sure when things had started to change between you and Sam. It must have been slow, gradual, because there had been a time when he was just a friend. A tall, impossibly handsome friend, but a friend nonetheless.

Clearly, some tipping point had been reached because recently it’d been different.

It had been almost imperceptible at first. The occasional accidental shared glance that lingered a moment longer than it should have and ended with him breaking out in a huge but adorable smile as you both looked away. The accidental graze that seemed to leave a slowly burning wave that spread across your skin, in its wake. The childish ribbing that had always flowed easily between the three of you becoming mildly, then obviously, flirtatious when it came to you and Sam. But they had just been moments, thrilling but fleeting, and easy to write off when mixed in with the normal, easy friendship that you’d built up over years.

But then….

The looks got longer and seemed to happen more often. Sometimes the big smile was there at the end but sometimes….sometimes he just held the look, as if he was daring you to keep it too. It felt…significant in some way. A way that you couldn’t quite figure out. Maybe you didn’t want to. Maybe you were scared.

And you weren’t sure if the accidental touches were actually happening more or if you were just more aware of them. The way the heat didn’t just flow through you anymore but crackled and fizzed with a potent energy that you didn’t understand and weren’t sure if he felt too. And some weren’t accidental. The shoulder squeezes and pats and little strokes on the arms seemed to be happening more often, but they were still friendly, right? Even if every time you felt his touch, you were so…conscious of it, of the heat and the dip that it caused in your stomach, like the lurch you felt when a rollercoaster lunged downwards suddenly. 

The flirtation had ramped up too. Just slightly at first. It was weird because Dean could and would flirt with anything. He knew he was hot and could be sexy at the drop of a hat and he talked about women and sex all the time. You were sort of in awe of that confidence. Even though he was your friend, you could see how attractive it was. Sam was different. He was generally sweet and weirdly bashful and didn’t talk about stuff like that very often, not with you anyway. In fact, when Dean would say something flirty or brazen, Sam would usually either roll his eyes or look disgusted or you would see the long suffering look of patience settle in the features of his face, even if he was stifling a laugh. But that sort of made it all the more powerful when he did push that boundary, more unexpected, hotter. If he didn’t do it very often or with other women, it must mean something special when he did, right? Whatever, it held a force in it that made the deepest parts of you flutter. It did something to you, even though you didn’t want it to. 

It’s just flirting, you told yourself, people do it all the time, hell, you did it with Dean practically daily. It doesn’t mean anything. You had to repeat it to yourself – ‘it doesn’t mean anything, it’s just fun, he doesn’t mean it’ – because Sam flirting was….it was something else.

He’d say something so out of character that it set you back on your heels and then he’d just look at you; playful, defiant, a confident, teasing smile lifting the corner of the left side of his lips while his eyes stayed fixed on yours. This was a side of him you hadn’t seen before. It was almost unbearably sexy. It didn’t feel friendly. And it most definitely didn’t feel accidental.

Like when Dean had been teasing you about how he’d never seen you putting a sock on your door handle and how if you needed to practice your moves on him, you could, ‘just in the purposes of helping a friend out’ he’d said, he’d been joking, like you and he did sometimes - and just you and him, not you and Sam, not before anyway - but it was just silliness. Just words, no threat of action behind them.

You’d jokingly replied back said “Thanks buddy, you’re a real pal. But I gotta be honest, I’m not sure you could handle me….I think I’d be too much of a handful for you.”

Dean had been laughing lightheartedly on his way to getting another beer when Sam had quietly but purposefully lifted his sizeable hands, and looked pointedly from them, in front of him with his fingers splayed, to you and fixed you with a look whilst he raised an eyebrow. 

“Some of us have bigger hands.” He said, in a voice that was quiet so only you could hear, and also lower and deeper, not like you’d ever heard it before, it was dripping in sex. It was so unexpected. “And some of us know how to use them.”

The eye contact between you had been loaded and intense. The flutter, the dip - you felt all of it. There was no way to ignore what he meant or how he said it.

But you shook it off as Dean returned and started talking about his latest conquest. You had to.

Then there was the time you’d walked into the gym and seen him working out. 

“Jeez, how much can you bench press anyway?” you’d said, trying to sound friendly and unbothered, despite the truth, that you were taken aback to see him working out without a top on, the cut of his muscles, taut and glazed with sweat. He’d grunt slightly every time he lifted the weight and without meaning to, the noise made your mind think sinful things, of how he might sound during other exertions. 

“How much can I lift?” He’d said, smiling despite the strain of the lift, smirking almost. “Whatever you are. I could lift you. Easily.” You had been about to argue with him, lightheartedly, but he was looking at you in a way that told you you weren’t talking about what you thought you’d actually been talking about. 

“Lift you up….hold you down….do all kinds of things……if you wanted….” You weren’t sure what to say, it didn’t seem lighthearted anymore and he wasn’t looking away, his eyes were daring you to admit that you both wanted to see what his body could do to you. But then Dean’s voice had sailed through the quiet silent space where Sam’s words had been hanging in the air, saying that Jody had called and needed them to weigh in on a case. He’d gotten up and picked up his towel and as he walked past you, he’d leaned towards you and said, in that voice again, “I think you’d be surprised at what I could do to you.” And it had left you warm and flustered, largely because it just hadn’t seemed very Sam. And also because for a good while afterwards that had been all you could think about.

Moments like that had started coming faster and more frequently and each time it felt like you were on the cusp of….something. But it remained unspoken. It stayed the elephant in the room.

It had been confusing because it wasn’t just flirting and physical attraction, there was another side of it that seemed to be spiralling dangerously out of control too. The closeness and intimacy that seemed to be pushing beyond the boundary of ‘just good friends’.

Like the time you’d fallen asleep during movie night and woken to find you’d dozily drifted to lie against him, cuddled up against his arm. You’d woken because he was casually drawing aimless circles across your forearm and lightly stroking it. You had stirred and he stopped and started to apologise saying he hadn’t realised but you’d smiled and said it was ok, you were sorry you’d fallen asleep and then he’d reached up and put his arm around you and you’d shuffled into the nook of his arm. Briefly. Until you both heard Dean coming down the hallway asking if he’d missed his favourite scene and you’d shifted apart. Just a few inches but it felt like a million miles. Even in the moment, you’d heard a voice in your head, questioning whether this was something friends did, but thankfully the grogginess had helped you drown it out. 

Or when that demon had knocked you out and you’d come to to find him stroking your hair and the side of your face, sweetly, tenderly. He’d looked worried and then overwhelmed by relief.

“Oh thank fuck…” He’d muttered under his breath before kissing you softly on the forehead and pulling you into a tight, warm hug that went on for a long time. “I was so worried…” He whispered into your ear and you could hear it, the concern that seemed…like the deepest, most heartfelt care. You had been disorientated at the time and had just surrendered to how safe it felt in his arms and how soothing it felt as he continued stroking your hair and kissing the crown of your head. And then Dean burst in to tell you both that he’d killed the demon with an angel blade. Sam had let you go and Dean had helped you up, asking if you were alright. He was concerned too but it was so markedly different. Later you kept thinking about it, trying to pretend that Sam had just been caught up in the moment, that he was just worried about his friend. You weren’t very convincing, even in your own mind.

But as much as there was this swell of confusing emotion building - at other times things were just normal. The three of you just as you’d always been. Sam just being like he had always been. You could think yourself round in circles trying to figure out what was real and what was denial; what was hope and was fear – were you reading into things? And if not, what did that even mean?

Thoughts like that could drive you crazy. And that had been what had happened the other night. You’d tried to sleep but you couldn’t. You had been lying there trying to think your way through it all. Trying to pinpoint exactly the moment things had started to change.

It wasn’t instantaneous. It was gradual. Slow. So slow that you hadn’t felt it happening though you could see the change when you looked back.

But then….

Then it had slowly, silently morphed into something else. Now when Sam entered a room you were in, it felt like the air got thicker, denser, hotter. It wasn’t his fault but you were so aware of him. Where he was in relation to you. What he was wearing. What he looked like that day, the way he smelled. The closer he got to you, you felt it, like a quickening of the blood in your veins, like it was heating up. The atmosphere felt charged, like there was a current running between you that you couldn’t see but it surged and sparked anyway, making its magnetic pull felt. 

It was like nothing you’d ever felt before. It felt exciting and powerful – it was bigger than you and you knew you couldn’t resist it much longer – and it had started to feel dangerous. Not Sam himself, you never felt anything but safe around him. His big heart and strong physical presence felt like protection itself, not only did you know deep in your bones that he would never hurt you, you knew that he would never let anyone else hurt you either. That wasn’t it.

It was the power of this thing – whatever it was that you could feel building – it was too much, too strong. Despite trying for months, you were starting to realise that it wouldn’t be resisted and it wasn’t going away. You hadn’t wanted this, you would have loved to have it be like it was before; the breezy, carefree feeling of effortless friendship, but it was different now and there was seemingly nothing you could do. And you already knew it could hurt you. Therein lay the danger.

Wanting anything as much as you’d started to want him could never be good, you reasoned. You were trying to pull yourself back from the precipice of it with all your might…and it still felt like thick heavy vines of want and need were constantly snaking up around your thoughts and feelings. It was building to an undeniable fever pitch and if it already felt like this – like you couldn’t stop it, like everything he did seemed like magic, like you were constantly fighting yourself not to touch him, like you craved him – then how much more out of control would you be if you gave in and stopped fighting?

He looked better than anyone you’d ever seen. He always smelt amazing. His body was perfect – so tall and strong and when he hugged you, really hugged you, it felt like there was nowhere safer than inside his arms, close to his body, warm and protected. It was a powerful feeling. It was the best feeling. He also was the most amazing person you had ever known – so kind and sweet and compassionate and brave and smart. And you’d seen him hunt and fight, he was badass as hell, capable and strong and heroic. He was unutterably sexy, a look could render you weak at the knees – literally – that had happened once, you’d had to hold onto the table – and he wasn’t even ‘looking’ at you properly, not really, not the way you imagined he could…if he wanted to…if you let him. It was too much, it was over powering.

Whatever this was it was bigger than anything you’d felt before. Even when you’d thought you’d been ‘in love’ before, it hadn’t been like this. There had been other men before but they weren’t like Sam. You hadn’t known men like him existed before and now you weren’t sure you could go back.

You’d also been hurt before. So it only stood to reason that this…with all its raging, uncontrollable force could really hurt…you didn’t want to be dramatic and use words like ‘decimate’ or ‘destroy’ – so you didn’t, even to yourself, but the fact that they were even there, like whispers echoing through the furthest reaches of your consciousness, terrified you.

Earlier that day you had been in the library. You’d been stood leaning back against the table, scanning the shelves to try and figure out which book would be most helpful. As you leaned, your hands supported your weight, palms flat, fingers curled around the lip of the table. He had come in and gone to do something on his laptop, which had been there, on the table next to you and as he casually stood there he put his hand there next to yours. It was unintentional…at first…just an accident. The touching. It could have happened a hundred times before, it may have, but normally he’d have moved it straight away. This time, he didn’t. His hand just stayed there, next to yours. Skin to skin. Contact. Touching. You felt the warmth of it. You felt the deliberate intention in him keeping it there. He’d started off lazily typing with his other hand but that had stopped. You looked down to see your hands touching, there on the edge of the table. ‘It’s just hands,’ you had thought, ‘What is this some kind of Austen novel?’ It shouldn’t have felt so charged. It wasn’t just the contact of your skin with his, though. It was the considered purpose, the way in which in every other interaction like this you would have imagined the person moving their hand away automatically, out of simple instinct. You had let your eyes travel up his arm, taking in the firm muscle definition that was obvious, even under his pushed up sleeves, across his broad shoulders and up to his face, his eyes that were looking at you. They said, ‘I’m not moving. I’m tentatively testing, is this OK? I want you to know that I want to touch you…and this is a small way to see if that’s what you want too. If I touch you with intention will you pull away? Because you can move and I’ll know and I won’t do it again but I’m showing you now….I won’t move first.’ Though he himself said nothing. Just stood there, his eyes steadfast as they searched your face.

The words ‘Sam, what’s happening?’ had formed somewhere in your mind, you’d felt as though you had actually said them but rationally, you knew you hadn’t. They were lodged in your throat and you couldn’t get them out. There was just the silence of the library and beating of your heart, getting faster. And louder, or so it seemed. You’d felt so powerlessly out of control – the way you wanted him, needed him – the way he was looking at you felt like the only thing that mattered in the world. And he was just stood there, close - so near but not near enough.

And then of course then his phone rang. He’d kept just looking at you for a moment despite the tone blaring and then it was all over just as quickly it had begun. In a matter of moments it had gotten intense and laden with unexpected meanings that you didn’t fully understand and then just as quickly it had all reverted back to normal as he moved his hand to get his phone from his pocket. Leaving you confused and wondering what had just happened. It was just hands touching, surely that was the purest, most chaste of possible contact? But then why had it felt so weirdly….hot? And why were you so scared of what could have happened? What would have happened?

Would he have kissed you? You wanted him to so much and you were simultaneously annoyed and frustrated that you’d been interrupted but also, you had to admit, you were relieved that you hadn’t actually crossed any lines that would be difficult (impossible?) to come back from.

You had thought about how much you loved both the Winchester’s and how you couldn’t bear it if anything compromised that. How much you loved living there with them and how if you and Sam let anything happen and it ended, which let’s face it, relationships often did, no matter the attraction or good intentions, it would ruin everything.

I can’t do this, you thought, I won’t. I won’t lose the friendships that mean everything to me and I won’t lose my home. And I won’t put myself in the way of a wrecking ball that will break my heart. There were no happy endings for hunters, no apple pie life, no white picket fences. Some part of you was trying to protect you. It had been quietly whispering, trying to get your attention and you had ignored it. Now it had started to shout.

The whirring of your mind would not stop as you lay there. You’d been driving yourself crazy so you’d gotten up to get a drink of water and seen the stack of dishes in the sink. ‘Dean!’ You’d silently scolded. Oh well, you were up anyway and sleep wasn’t coming anytime soon, you may as well make yourself useful, you’d thought. 

You’d been washing a plate from the stack when you felt, before you heard, Sam’s presence. He came in and stood behind you. Not touching but near. Again. It was all back; the heat, the pull, the dip, the ache, the need - and your heartbeat pulsing faster.

“Can’t sleep?” He’d asked, softly, quietly.

You’d shaken your head. You didn’t trust yourself to speak. All you’d wanted to do was turn around and pull him closer. You’d wanted so badly, to feel him against you. More than you’d ever wanted it before. Maybe he’d felt how much because he’d stepped closer.

“Something on your mind? You can talk to me if you want. I’m here anytime you need. I’m just….right….here.” he’d said and he’d leaned his hand forward to pull your hair back and across, so instead of it hanging down it was now pushed all to one side in front your right shoulder as you faced away from him, leaving the other side your neck exposed. His fingers had grazed your skin there as he went and although it had been gentle and fleeting, it had felt loaded and like a caress. It felt sensual and deliberate. It felt like a touch a long way from friendly. The way you wanted him to kiss you there, to grab you and to feel his hands on you, it felt a long, long way from that.

At that point, you heard feet, still heavy with recent slumber, echoing towards the room and he stepped back. Dean had entered the room, half asleep. He’d come to get water, he said, hadn’t meant for you to do his dishes, he was going to do them in the morning. It was fine, you’d said, rinsing the final mug and you’d left, pausing outside the room. You weren’t proud of eavesdropping but still you had found yourself listening.

“Dude…what’s going on there?” Dean had asked Sam.

“Nothing.”

“Yeah, right…”

“It’s Y/N. I wouldn’t – “

“Exactly. Y/N. So be careful.”

“You are going to lecture me on how to treat women?”

“She’s not ‘women’, Sammy. She’s our friend. Don’t shit where you eat.”

Nice, you’d thought sarcastically, at exactly the same time as Sam said it.

“Look, man, nothing’s going on. Like you said, she’s our friend. I think sometimes we just flirt a little bit but that’s it. It’s harmless.”

“Sam, you don’t do flirting, harmless or otherwise. I’m telling you, man, be careful.”

You’d gone back to bed and thought about it. Perhaps it was harmless in theory but – for you - it was turning into something that felt way more than that. If you had actually kissed earlier, it would only have been a kiss, and what was that between two consenting adults? Not a big deal. You knew that. But also….you couldn’t deny that it would have been a big deal to you. It wouldn’t have been harmless. Everything that had happened that day – the library, the kitchen - it had been a close call and it meant that you had to face facts. You didn’t want to ruin a good thing. You didn’t want to ruin your friendships or your home. You didn’t want to let this get out of hand. The next day, you’d told Dean you needed some space and you’d left. You’d deliberately done it while Sam was out, running. You didn’t want to have to explain it to him. You weren’t even sure if you could. 

And now here you were. 

With Sam glowering at you from across the room.

“I really didn’t mean to hurt you, Sam, you know that, I would never ever want to do that. I just…it’s been getting…”

“Yeah, weird, you said.”

“Exactly.”

“So you left?”

“I thought it was for the best. It seemed to be ratcheting up, for me it felt like that anyway. I thought the best thing to do would be to get some space, some distance. Try and stop it. Just…..leave.”

“And you could do that?” His face looked wounded and sad, brows knitted together in disbelief. He huffed a laugh that wasn’t a laugh and suddenly he looked angry again. “Of course you could. You did.”

“Look, I know it’s just ‘harmless flirting’ to you but it was starting to get out of control for me.”

“What? Where did that come fr-“

“I heard. You and Dean. The other night.”

“I hadn’t spoken to you about it.“ He said, face animated, “I was hardly going to try and explain it to Dean.”

You looked up from the floor where your gaze had fallen, embarrassed, and let it settle on his face. It was so earnest. He looked adorable, even if still pained.

“Explain what?” you asked.

“I don’t know. Whatever this is.” He said, looking meaningfully at you, “Was.”

“It can’t be anything. I can’t lose you and Dean as friends. I won’t.” you paused for emphasis, “and like you said, hunter life isn’t exactly compatible with romance and happy endings.”

“You think I don’t know that? You know about my history with women. You know I know that.”

“So we should just nip it in the bud, now. Go back to being friends.”

He walked across the room, towards you and stopped a couple of feet from where you stood. Yet again, so close. Part of you desperately needed him closer, ached and throbbed with the need…and the other part knew that if he got too near….you wouldn’t be able to resist.

“And you can do that?” He asked, wounded incredulity running through his voice, bending slightly to force himself into your eyeline as you tried to look away, to hide from his gaze.

“I have to. It’s for the best.”

“Is it?”

“You and Dean are everything to me and I love living in the bunker and I don’t want to lose what we have. And this….whatever it is….it’s spiralling out of control. It’s not just friends messing around anymore.”

“I know.”

“So we have to. Stop this….Sam….we should stop this.” Your voice lost its conviction half way through your sentence, getting quieter and weaker and sounding less like even you believed it.

“I know.”

You looked into his eyes. They were so beautiful. You’d always found them arresting, the way they changed. Right now, the burst of sunflower yellow swirling like a galaxy against the pale, deep green. It was impossible to look at them and not feel taken aback, even more so when they were focused on you like this, full of the urgency of his need for you.

“I know,” he said, “but I don’t think I can. It started before I knew what it was and now it’s too late. I can’t put you in harm’s way, I’ll never do that but also…I can’t walk away. I can’t go back and I can’t pretend but I also can’t let you go. So I don’t know what to do. I hear what you’re saying and it makes sense. I get it. But I can’t make myself stop this…..all I know is, I feel….” He let out a deep exhalation of frustration, before trying again to explain himself, “I think you are beautiful and smart and funny and kind and I want to be near you all the time. And not because you are my friend …the way I feel, it’s more than friendship now and it has been for a long time. Whether you like that or not……whether I like that or not. I never wanted to make it weird or make you uncomfortable. I tried to fight it and I would have…but then….” He started to smile, just a bit, the very corners of his perfect pink lips turning just slightly upwards, “it sort of started to seem like you felt the same. And I couldn’t help it, it made me happy. You make me happy. And when I’m around you I just want to hold you. I want to kiss you…to touch you…I want to…..”

He took another step closer to you. Still not touching but the pull towards him, in your gut and….lower…it was getting almost unbearably intense. You were fighting against yourself, trying to keep your arms for reaching for him. His eyes were still on you, they were trying to convey the depth of his feelings as they narrowed and widened with emotion as he talked. You knew you shouldn’t ask, you knew you were playing with fire, but you heard the words come out of your mouth.

“You want to what?” You asked.

His smile went and he looked serious but unashamed and certain. “To do things that ‘friends’ don’t do.”

You swallowed. Again you felt torn; part of you wanting him to say more, to explain – slowly – exactly what he meant. The other part knew you couldn’t hear them. Not if you had any chance of even trying to stop this. Not that you knew if you even could.

“I felt something between us but I didn’t know how to bring it up. I tried to see if I could test the waters…because it doesn’t matter how I feel or what I want if you don’t feel the same …..that’s the only way I can let it go now….I can’t walk away from how I feel, from you…..unless it’s not what you want, unless I’m not what you want. Which is fine and I’ll understand. You won’t lose either of us or your home because of that…..but that’s the only way I can stop this now. Not because it might be hard or it might go wrong. And not because I’m afraid, which I am, it scares me too, Y/N, the way I feel about you. That’s why I hadn’t told you….why I couldn’t talk to you about it….but it turns out being freaked out by how much I felt for you was nothing compared to the thought of losing you. When Dean told me you’d left and you hadn’t even told me, it felt like someone had punched me in the gut.”

“I’m sorry. Really.” You said, honestly. “I was just trying to do the right thing. The sensible thing. I just…..I don’t want to hurt you, ever. But I don’t see how this can end well and if it goes wrong, well then I get hurt or you do. And if it’s good…..” You smiled without meaning to at just the thought, the tiniest sliver of a thought which was all you could allow yourself to indulge, of actually being with him and how good that could be, “….a hunter’s life doesn’t lead to happy endings, you told me that….so even then I still get hurt….or you do. I’m trying to do what’s for the best, that’s all.”

He moved forward, there was very little space between you now. Literally, just inches. You looked up at him. Having his body this close was intense. That pull had gotten stronger the closer he got and now it felt as undeniable as gravity. He was looking at you, gently but also longingly. It was overwhelming. 

“I know you don’t want to lose what we had but I’m telling you now, I can’t lose you at all, Y/N.” He said, staring deeply into your eyes, “I won’t.”

It felt still, as if you were both stood in the eye of a hurricane, as if a spell had been cast and the entire universe was holding itself together by the most tenuous of forces. You were afraid to move in case you’d break whatever this was, passing between you. You were afraid to speak because you didn’t know what to say. You stayed looking into each other’s eyes for what seemed like an impossibly long time, how long it actually was, you weren’t sure. Long enough, eventually, for your normal, awkward, humour-as-a-defense-mechanism default setting to finally kick in. 

“This is the part where Dean normally comes in…or the phone rings…” you said, smiling awkwardly as you felt the situation spinning powerfully out of your control. The unspoken words that lay under your actual words, silently saying ‘I have never wanted anything - or been afraid of anything - so much in my life. I don’t know what’s happening right now and I’m scared. Please let this be OK.’

“Y/N?” He said, softly but definitely. He was looking so intensely into your eyes as if trying to get all the meaning and significance that couldn’t be put into words across through his look instead.

“Dean’s not here. My phone is off. If the whole world ends tonight, I’ll deal with it tomorrow. All I am thinking about is you right now….” He reached to hold your hand in his, his touch impeding your ability to think clearly even more. “You’re all I want. And there’s no one here but you and me. There is nothing and no one to stop us right now unless….”

You looked at him searchingly. You felt it; the weight of his undivided attention, the intensity of how much he wanted you - the pressure against the dam that was holding back the swell of water that longed to flow freely, the dam that was slowly giving.

“…unless you tell me to stop. Unless you tell me you don’t want this. Then I will, I’ll stop. I’ll get in the car and drive away and you’ll never have to see me again if that’s what you want. But unless you tell me that that’s what you want…..nothing’s going to stop me from kissing you. Not this time. So if you’re gonna say it, say it now…or else….”

He paused for a moment but you didn’t stop him. You were finding it hard to breathe. Whatever may or may not have been for the best, now it all came down to it, as he focussed in on you, you couldn’t tell him to stop. You didn’t really want him to.

It had been sweet, the connection when he held your hand, but now he reached out and touched you with foreboding intention, and the contact you’d been craving left you with no doubt that you had no control or restraint left in you. It felt electric as he ran his hand from your neck to cup your cheek tenderly as he leaned in, closing the gap between you as he pulled you towards him. Time seemed to actually slow itself as you felt the air between you disappear. You felt his other hand on your waist and then you felt it moving until both hands held your face, adoringly, reverently. His hair falling slightly in his face as he tilted it towards you, he shut his beautiful eyes as his lips touched yours. It was soft and gentle. You surrendered, melting into him as one hand moved into your hair and the other around your back. His lips parted and you felt his tongue move, just lightly against yours. You kissed him back and then he pulled back just a little, to look at you, to see if you were OK.

“Well, that’s new….” You said, instantly hating that you’d said it, wishing you had stayed silent.

He smiled kindly as his thumb traced gently against your cheekbone. “You’re nervous.” He said.

“You’re not?” You asked, a slight tension in your laugh.

“No, I mean….a little. But I’ve wanted this for so long. I don’t think I can feel the nerves properly…because I can’t believe it’s really happening.”

Now you smiled, it was hard not to. He was so wonderful. He was so….Sam.

“It’s really happening.” You said, squeezing your arms as they encircled him, to prove it.

“And you’re OK? With me kissing you?” The wide smile across your face was an answer in itself. “Because I think I’m going to have to do it again.” He said, leaning forwards once more. And this time, as you felt his lips move and his tongue gently sweep over yours, everything you’d both been denying surged and the softness and tender affection was suddenly something else, something powerful and combustive, as all that you’d been holding back, trying to control, to fight into submission – all broke free, unleashed and wild, with a force that overpowered the both of you.

His hands were all over you as the kiss became hungrier, though one moved up to protect the back of your head as he pushed you up against the wall. You could feel his body, powerful and strong as it moved against you. Your hands moved too, finally able to roam over him, the way they’d been wanting to for so long. You felt the broad, tight muscles of his back moving under the fabric of his t shirt and the soft, thickness of his hair between your exploring fingers. His tongue and lips were moving faster and harder against you now and somehow – half your desire to wrap yourself around him, half his wordless support for you to do just that, as he grabbed your ass and lifted – your feet were no longer on the ground and your legs were wound tightly against his waist.

You suddenly felt overcome by the need to feel his skin and you ran your hand under his t shirt to feel the warm smoothness of his body. He pushed you more forcefully against the wall, pinning you in place as he lifted it over his head and went to do the same with yours. Then you fumbled with his belt, undoing it, desperate to feel all of him. You’d thought about this for so long, wanting it and fantasising about it but never letting yourself entertain it as a reality that could happen and now you couldn’t hold back. You brought your legs back down so his jeans could fall and you watched as he stepped out of them and his boxers. Your eyes widened as you looked at him stood there, naked. God, he was beautiful. And his cock…it was big and long and thick and hard, just as perfect as all the times you had imagined it, and there had been many. You couldn’t take your eyes off it. He smiled under your gaze as he undid your jeans and pushed them and your panties down before undoing your bra. You threw it off you and stepped out of your jeans. Now you were both naked and his eyes, darker now, edging from green to hazel, were travelling all over you as his breathing got deeper.

He grabbed you again, this time his kisses furiously travelling from your lips down your neck. “You are so fucking beautiful…” He said, through his kisses. His hands swept across your skin before settling on your ass to lift you up again, legs around his waist. You could feel his hard cock against the cheeks of your ass as you kissed. He pinioned you against the wall again, and brought one hand to your breast, massaging it gently but firmly, while the other supported you. He dipped his head to close his lips against your nipple, sucking whilst running his tongue over it and then, gently, biting.

You let your head lean back against the wall as you let out a sigh at how good it felt, how good he felt. He lifted his head, “Bed. Upstairs?” He breathlessly uttered into your kiss. You nodded as he put his arms around your lower back and walked with you still around him. You giggled slightly. “Sam, you can put me down…”

“I’m never putting you down again.” He said, smiling as he made his way, with you still wrapped around him, up the stairs. “Told you I could lift you. Easily.” He smirked.

“You told me you could do a lot of things.” You said, gently nibbling at his neck.

“And I intend to….”

When you got to the upstairs landing, you nodded to the bedroom with your head as he kissed you with one eye open to see the way. Before you knew it he was laying you down on the bed and lying on top of you, spreading his weight so it didn’t fall entirely on you, though what you did feel of it, felt delicious and powerful. Now you were finally on a bed, both of you let your hands go wherever they wanted, everywhere, as you rolled over each other. His skin was so beautiful as it ran, so smooth, over his firm muscular body, you trailed kisses over it as you explored, lost in how good it felt to feel him, to taste him and how good it felt for him to be doing the same to you. His lips and tongue and hands and fingers travelled hungrily over you, urgent and insistent, eager to feel all the parts of you that he had only been able to imagine. Until now.

His hands were raking through your hair, pushing it out of your face as he rolled you over onto your back. He kissed your lips before pulling back to look at you.

“I have thought about this so many times. Dreamt about it. I’ve wanted you, like this, so much. For so long.”

And then he was kissing your neck. You watched his hands, his big beautiful hands, as they ran over your flesh, tracing every curve. You had dreamt about this too, imagined it, but now it was actually happening and it was so much better. You looked, as he moved lower, his lips on your breasts, your stomach. His face showed how enraptured he was, as he lay warm, wet, open mouthed kisses across your skin.

You couldn’t stop yourself from touching him, caressing his warm skin. Your fingers interlaced with his for a moment before they continued their journey over and across his flexing and contracting muscles, across his perfect body.

He moved lower, settling between your legs, open for him. He looked at you, bare and spread before him. His eyes were wide with desire and longing, darker now, as he took the sight of you in.

“I’ve thought about this so many times…” he said, putting his hands either side of your pussy and using his fingers to reveal it more fully. You felt exposed and vulnerable having his eyes on you like this. He looked up at you, taking in the full sight of your naked body and your face. His appreciative look and the lust in his eyes made you clench internally. “You don’t even know how much I wanted to do this…” He said, as he leaned forward, laying a kiss on your clit. His lips parted and you felt his tongue, his lips – kissing and lapping there and then down to your entrance where his tongue tasted its way into you, before licking back up. Your fingers ran through his lustrous hair. He looked up and you tried not to feel undone by the intensity of the eye contact, but you failed. He was still Sam as you knew him but the wildness, the carnality…it was almost too much. Almost.

“You’re beautiful….” He said, between licks, “This…is beautiful. And you taste. So. Damn. Good.” And then his enthusiastic fervour took over, he licked and kissed and lapped with hungry, desperate need, moaning against you. His tongue moving from entering you to flicking against your clit and back again…over and over. The sensation itself was incredible, so wet and warm and getting faster, but combined with watching his obvious enjoyment and the sounds…the sounds of gratification he was making….

You were going to come hard, and soon…and then, you felt his fingers moving by his mouth, just a couple of them. They stroked your folds alongside his lips and tongue before pushing slowly into you. He moved them back and forth, getting faster. It was all getting faster and you felt the powerful wave inside of you building. He kept his fingers moving, in and out of you, he crooked them slightly, stroking you inside. He kept licking and gently sucking, kept moaning…you hadn’t realised you were moaning too…and now…you couldn’t hold back. You came, clenching around his fingers, your body bucking as his other hand kept you in place, his name rolled off your tongue in high pitched desperate sighs of pleasure…again and again. His fingers and mouth kept working you through your orgasm but as you started to come down, he slowed the pace…slower and slower until he just lazily dragged one finger slightly, inside of you and just gently and softly kissed your pussy with soft and open lips, though your body shuddered at each movement. You tried to steady your breathing and you hadn’t yet opened your eyes when he removed his finger and moved slightly to kiss the insides of your thighs. He ran his hands up your legs and across your stomach and breast, happy rippling aftershocks running through you under his touch.

When you opened your eyes, you saw him licking his fingers, his lips wet and glistening. He was far from satiated but there was contentment on his face all the same. He kissed his way back up to you.

“I really like making you come. And I really like your pussy…”

You’d never heard him talk like that before and it was so fucking sexy. You’d only just come down from your high and yet you already wanted more.

“…and I really like it when you say my name…like that.” He said, making a noise of contentment into your neck, where he was kissing and gently sucking and biting.

You pushed against him and he let you roll him over.

“I liked you making me say it…like that.” You said, as you kissed your way down his chiselled torso. He kept his eyes on you, lust blown but never straying as you now settled between his long, built legs with his thick, firm thighs either side of you.

His cock was flushed and straining. It was beautiful. You ran your hands over the length of it, feeling it twitch in your grasp as you smeared the precum across the velvety tip with your thumb. He let out a low, thundering growl and then hissed as your hands continued to move. One stayed, gripping him and moving slowly up and down. The other stroked its way over his balls and between his legs

“I knew your cock would be big….and beautiful….” You said, in a voice lower than usual, and slower too. “….but not this big…” You bent to kiss the tip of it as his head lolled back against the pillow, his eyes momentarily shutting. “…or this beautiful.”

His eyes opened, and he watched as you kitten licked the underside of it, your eyes linked. His brow creased in pleasure as you took the tip between your lips and into your mouth, slightly at first but then slightly deeper each time you pulled up and went down. You moved your tongue against it, in your mouth, tasting the slight saltiness and the softness of the skin against your lips.

“Oh…Y/N……Oh God…..” He said, moving his hands to card through your hair. You picked up the pace, watching him as his face showed his mounting pleasure. He groaned and although one hand stayed lovingly playing in your hair, the other moved to the bedsheets and grabbed a fistful of linen.

“Y/N….Oh….that feels so good….mmmmm….you’ve got to stop….” He said, shifting as you moved your mouth off his thick, hard cock. You looked up at him as he sat up, pulling you towards him. His strong hands moved across your back as he kissed you, settling under your ass as he carefully rolled you under him once more. “I need to….”

You looked at him as he trailed off, daring him to finish the sentence. He smiled, slightly, and looked deep into your eyes. He was on top of you now. You could feel his hard cock, dragging through your folds and against your clit as he moved against you, one of your hands raking your nails gently down his back, the other running through the hair at the back of his head. He met your daring look with a playful smirk.

“I need to be inside of you.” He said, punctuating his speech with kisses. “I need to know what your pussy feels like wrapped around me, to feel what it’s like to move inside you and make you scream my name real loud…” His voice was low again. That deep sexy tone that made you flutter inside. “I need to watch your face when you first feel me inside you, I need…..I just really, really need to fuck you.”

He sort of smiled but the urgency of the need in him dominated his features as he bit his lower lip. His eyes shut as he inhaled deeply.

“I can feel how wet you are.” He whispered into your ear. “It’s driving me crazy.”

Your body arched against him.

“Tell me….what you need. What you want.” He said, biting your ear lobe.

“I want you, Sam. I need you.” You said, kissing him deeply. “You know I do…but if you want me to beg…..”

You felt the shiver that ran through his body.

“I need to feel you. I need you to fuck me hard and deep…the way I’ve been thinking about every night for so long, touching myself while I imagined how good you’d be, how good it would feel. I need your big, hard, beautiful cock. I need you Sam….please…” you kissed his neck, feeling the cords of muscle straining under the skin and against your tongue as he clenched his jaw, “…I’m begging you…I’ve needed you for so long…I can’t wait any longer…please…”

You felt him move to line himself up, before looking at you, his hair falling slightly, into his face.

“Fuck…..I really like it when you beg for me. You look so beautiful right now…so, so beautiful.” He said, kissing you, “Are you sure?”

It was the most Sam thing, you thought, to feel how much you wanted him, to hear you begging for him and to check anyway.

You smiled as you kissed his soft, pert lips. “I have never been more sure of anything in my whole life.” You said.

And then he rolled his hips, pushing himself into you, slow but hard and deep, as he watched your face, rapt.

“Oh God….Sam…” You said, as your head rolled back, your eyes automatically shutting to let the feeling of fullness take over you. He moaned, long and loud as he slid into your wet, warm pussy.

He was so…big. But in the very best way. You opened your eyes when he was as deep in you as he could be, his face contorted by how good it felt. How good you felt.

Your legs wrapped around him again, trying to pull him even further into you, even though there was no ‘further’ left, and you weren’t sure you could take it if there was. His weight rested on his forearms as his fingers cradled your head through your hair and he kissed you deeply as he slowly, tentatively, started to move.

“Oh….Sam……” You moaned, without even meaning to, as your head rolled back into the pillow.

“I love hearing you say my name like that.” He panted into your ear, “Say it again, just like that.”

You looked up, into his eyes. “Make me.” You said.

He pulled back, almost entirely out of you before pushing back in, hard.

“Oh fuck…Sam.” You heard yourself breathlessly moaning out, catching the look of pleasure on his face as he did it again. And again.

“You feel so good.” He said, his voice ragged around his laboured breathing. “So. So. Good.” His words matching his thrusts as they settled into a steady pace. “So wet. So tight. So….fucking….amazing.”

You couldn’t really think anymore. All that registered in your mind was the weight of him and his sweat, his kisses and your mouth running from his lips to his neck to his shoulders, desperate to feel and taste all of him that you could. One of his hands moved to capture both your wrists and pin them above you, against the pillow. He was so strong, there was no give at all as you pushed against him, not wanting to be free, just testing. You heard yourself saying his name and you heard him saying yours. You heard the groans that were coming from him and they were turning you on almost as much as the motion of him, rhythmic and deep, pushing you further and further towards ecstatic oblivion.

“So good, Sam…you feel so good….so big…..” You said, realising that it sounded like cheesy porn dialogue but not being able to stop yourself, it was true.

He had looked serious, lost in the way it felt, but when you said that a slight satisfied smirk drifted across his beautiful face, hair falling, damp with sweat. “Yeah? It’s all for you baby….all of me…just for you.” He said, as his free hand snaked between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit and starting to move in circles against it. “Wanna make you come…” He panted. “…wanna make you feel good.”

You were nearly there anyway. So close. Your body was arching against him, your arms pushing against his unrelenting grip.

“It already feels good….” you half spoke, half sighed, “Sam….I’m gonna come….”

“Mmmm….Y/N…….come. Come for me. Come on my dick…I need you to…I need to feel you.”

He kept up his pace as you felt the rolling wave take over your whole body. Your body wanted to move with the force of it but you were held in place by his grip on your wrists and the weight of his body as he fucked you through your release. You were screaming his name and cursing loudly but all you could feel was how good it felt and all you heard were his groans getting louder, more desperate and wrecked sounding. He let go of your arms and moved your legs so they were resting against his shoulders. The change in angle every time he thrust, every time he moved against new and responsive nerves inside of you, was either prolonging your orgasm or starting a new one, you weren’t sure which, but you felt wave after wave of delicious and overpowering pleasure rippling through you. You felt that and the strength of his body as it moved - as he groaned and then grunted, deep and guttural, his face twisted with the force of how powerful it felt as he let go inside of you, his pace unsteady and wild.

He tumbled forward on top of you, careful to keep you from feeling the full the brunt of his weight, eyes still shut as he kissed your skin under his lips where they were, unable to move to find your mouth, momentarily. You both stayed there for a moment, trying to gulp air down into your lungs. Then he shifted out of you and rolled off you, lying on his back, on the bed, breathing still ragged. 

“Wow.” He half muttered to himself as his eyes opened and with effort tried to focus. He reached across for you and easily pulled you into his side, arranging his arm around you. “C’mere…”

You snuggled into him feeling blissful and spent.

“That was….” You started but it was too hard to try and find the right words to adequately convey just how good it was.

He moved to shift your face towards him. The lazy smile across his face matching your own but his brows were slightly furrowed with curiosity. “That was…..?”

You laughed. “It was….perfect. You are amazing.” You kissed a little trail of kisses along his chest. “It was worth the wait.”

As you lay with your head on his chest and his arm around you, he kissed the top of your head and said, “You were worth the wait…..Listen, Y/N….will you come home with me….please? Come home and don’t leave me again, OK?”

You craned your head to look up at him, “OK. I won’t. I promise.” You looked deep into his eyes so he could see that you meant it.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen or how we’re going to do this…but I know I want to and I know we’ll figure it out. Together.” He said.

You smiled. “I want to too. And yeah, OK. Together.”

All the worries you had had before, they were still just as real but you’d come too far now. You couldn’t go back. You didn’t want to. It felt so good here, in his arms – so right.

He ran his fingers along your jawline to bring you closer and your eyes stayed locked on his, soft and adoring as he smiled his cutest Sam smile at you, complete with dimples. His beautiful dimples.

You lay there for a while, talking. Neither of you could believe that you got to be like this with each other. Finally. His fingers stroked your skin as he told you how beautiful he found you, how special, how perfect. And you couldn’t stop kissing him and telling him you felt the same.

Eventually, he said, “You know I love you, right?”

Your smile deepened into a grin. “I mean, after you drove cross country, all night…I sorta guessed as much.” You said, playfully.

“Oh, you did, huh?” He said, laughing.

“And you know I love you too, right?”

“I hoped as much.” He said, “I just never dreamed I could be so lucky…”

“Oh…I think you’re about to get very lucky…” You said, kissing him as you moved on top of him.

“Again?” He said, smiling widely.

“Yeah…” You said, smiling back. “Again…and again…and again.”


End file.
